


Owe You One

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drama, Kinks, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-16
Updated: 2006-06-16
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8704720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam's mischievous side. Spoilers for "Hell House" and slight reference to "Benders".





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Owe You One

**Title:** Owe You One  
**Author:** Shorts  
**Pairings/Character:** Dean/Sam  
**Rating:** NC17  
**Category:** Slash  
**Word Count:** 3836  
**Spoilers:** ‘Hell House' and slight reference to "Benders".  
  
  
OWE YOU ONE  
By Shorts  
  
Sam snuck another look at Dean, wondering if there really was a truce between them or not. With Dean, it was hard to tell. It would be just like him to lie in wait until he let down his guard, then pounce.  
  
Dean tapped his thumb against the steering wheel to the beat of the music. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam darting glances at him. He knew Sam like the palm of his hand, which by the way, was still sore from the skin he lost there. He glanced over at him and grinned, then turned his attention back to driving. He wondered how long it would take before Sam figured out that he was getting him right now, without so much as lifting a finger. Sam's imagination mixed with a good dose of paranoia would do more than he could to stir him up.  
  
Shifting in his seat, Sam closed his eyes, letting the steady hum of the car lull him. He had no intentions of falling asleep, but what Dean didn't know would come back and bite him in the ass.  
  
***  
  
They pulled into a small town, cruising past the few businesses that lined the one main drag. There was one motel that had seen better days and it fit Dean just fine. Two blocks back he had spotted a bar that boasted the best bar-b-que in town. Which, in his way of thinking, didn't mean squat considering there couldn't be much competition.  
  
As the car turned into the motel parking lot, Sam sat up and planted his feet against the floorboard and stretched, feeling the kinks almost release in the small of his back. "We're stopping here?"  
  
Dean shrugged, "As good a place as any. Besides, I'm hungry and tired, unlike someone who slept for the better part of the day."  
  
Taking the jibe in stride, Sam climbed out of the car and twisted back and forth from the waist, letting out a loud sigh as muscles eased their grip. "Doesn't look like much," he said, looking around.  
  
"It has what we need," said Dean, closing his door and heading for the motel office. "A bed, food and a bar."  
  
"All the comforts of home," muttered Sam as he followed after Dean.  
  
***  
  
Bringing his chair back down on all four legs, Dean finished his beer and took another look around the hazy, smoke filled bar. It may not have been the best bar-b-que he'd ever had, but to be honest, it had been pretty good. The combination of warm food, cold beer and miles of road behind him, caught up with him and he was ready to call it an early night. "Think I'm gonna head back to the motel. You comin'?"  
  
Sam rubbed the side of his nose with his finger and then unobtrusively pointed toward the back corner of the bar. "I've been watching that guy over there by the pool table. He seems to play a half way decent game, then when the stakes are where he wants them, he goes in for the kill."  
  
Dean glanced over at the guy, pocketing a number of bills. "Not tonight, Sam. I really just want to go and crash for at least eight hours of uninterrupted sleep." The guy was reaching for his own beer when he looked up and spotted Dean looking his way. Turning away, Dean slipped his coat off the back of his chair.  
  
"Go ahead and get some sleep," said Sam. "You're not the only one that can skin a local out of his money."  
  
"When was the last time you played?" asked Dean, not too confident that Sam hadn't lost some of his edge in pool sharking a pool shark. When you go after another player that has the same intentions as you, the game could turn pretty nasty.  
  
"Just let me worry about that," grinned Sam.  
  
"Sam, when it comes to money, I worry," countered Dean, trying to smother a yawn and sitting back down. "Go ahead. I'll wait. Just to make sure you don't get into trouble."  
  
He was just about to snap off a rejoinder when he saw the glint of worry in Dean's face. The last time they had been in a bar like this one, he had been jumped in the parking lot and it had taken a few days for Dean to find him. "I'll be fine. The motel is only two blocks from here. I can take care of myself."  
  
Dean pressed his lips into a tight line and studied his brother through lowered lashes. He was still trying to deal with that whole nightmare in Minnesota, and just how close it had been to them losing the fight. He had to trust that Sam didn't need him to watch over him every second. Finally he nodded and stood up and reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Fine, just be careful. I'd hate to wake up to a loss," he said, tossing five twenties on the table.  
  
"Your faith in me is heartwarming," smiled Sam, understanding that Dean was referring to him personally, and not the money. Or so he hoped. He slipped the bills into his front pocket of his jeans and made his way toward the back and the pool table.  
  
Dean walked slowly across the bar as he made his way toward the door. He kept an eye on Sam as he approached the guy, waiting to see if he'd take the bait. There wasn't much doubt he would, especially when Sam turned on the big, innocent eyes routine. It worked, even on him when he knew what Sam was up to. Sure enough, the guy racked up the balls and laid a bill on the edge of the pool table. Suppressing another yawn, he headed for the motel and bed.  
  
Sam caught sight of Dean disappearing out the door, and turned his attention to his opponent. Since he was the challenger, he got to break first. He lined up his cue stick and did a fair job at scattering the balls over the green.  
  
***  
  
Shrugging out of his jacket, Dean pulled down the covers of the nearest bed and stripped down to his boxers. He hadn't been lying when he said he was tired. They had been on the road all last night and most of today, and all he wanted now was to sleep.  
  
He crawled into bed and closed his eyes, sighing in relief. After lying there for twenty minutes, he was still awake. He hated nights like this when he was too tired to drop off. When that happened, finding release usually helped. Just because Sam wasn't here to help him, didn't mean he didn't know how to take the matter in his own hand.  
  
Licking his lips, he slipped his hand underneath the elastic band of his boxers, then grimaced. Thanks to Sam, the pain of his right palm was too tender and raw to do justice for what he needed. With a put upon grunt, he switched hands and he slowly stroked himself from root to tip, teasing himself to hardness. Not interested in drawing it out, he bent his legs and moved his fist faster, his hips jerking slightly as his excitement increased. His breath quickened as the familiar tingle built in his gut and soon he arched, lifting his hips off the bed as he came.  
  
Catching his breath, he reached over and snagged a few tissues to clean up, tossing them in the general direction of the small trash can. He collapsed back on the bed, his body completely relaxed and drifted off to sleep.  
  
***  
  
For the next two hours, Sam was occupied in the cat and mouse game of pool. As much as he bitched to Dean about how they got their money, he had to admit there was a thrill in it. One he had chosen to forget until now. By the time he wrapped it up, he had turned the hundred dollars into three hundred and the guy had actually taken it pretty well.   
  
It was in the last game that he had realized Sam wasn't just another sucker, and he even offered to buy Sam a beer to show there were no hard feelings. But Sam begged off, pleased with himself and no longer feeling he was entirely dependent on money that was won by Dean.  
  
He left the bar and walked quickly to the motel, making a quick stop at the car. He unlocked the motel door and quietly let himself inside, allowing his eyes to adjust to the deeper darkness of the room. He saw Dean sprawled across the bed on his stomach and grinned and as quietly as he could, he closed the door.  
  
The sound of the door clicking shut penetrated Dean's sleep and without fully waking up he mumbled, "Hope you didn't lose the whole hundred."  
  
Sam froze, waiting to see if Dean would finish waking up or go back to sleep. He waited and Dean's steady breathing was the only sound. He silently let out the breath he had been holding and slumped against the closed door. Taking care to be quiet, he set the items he had retrieved from the car on the nearby table and studied the situation.  
  
The first indication that something was wrong, was when a solid weight pinned him to the bed, snagging his wrists and immobilizing them with cuffs to the head of the bed. "What the hell?!" shouted Dean, immediately awake and fighting. He bucked against his attacker, trying to knock him off. Before he could turn his head to see who it was, a soft cloth was forced over his eyes and tied tight behind his head.  
  
Sam moved quickly, he knew surprise was the only edge he'd have to pull this off. Locking the cuffs home, he yanked the bandana out of his back pocket and tied the make shift blindfold over Dean's eyes. Finished, he pushed off of Dean and moved to the end of the bed, just out of reach of being kicked.  
  
Breathing heavily, adrenaline racing through him, Dean strained to hear where his assailant was in the room. He turned his head one way, then the other, trying to control his own breathing that was loud in his ears. "Sam? What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"  
  
Sam bit down hard on his lower lip, suppressing the giggle that threatened to escape. He didn't move or make a sound, wanting to give Dean time to work himself up, then wear himself out.  
  
Pulling himself toward the head of the bed, Dean leaned forward to get a purchase on his blind fold, but just before his fingers had a chance to latch onto the fabric, hands grabbed his ankles and pulled him flat on the bed again. "Shit!" He kicked and jerked his legs free, twisting his body until he was on his back and his wrists were crossed over his head. "Sam, goddamn it! This is not funny!"   
  
By now, he had expected to hear Sam's soft laugh, but it hadn't come. In fact, the lack of any sound at all had begun to unnerve him and he started to wonder if maybe it wasn't Sam at all. His next thought was what happened to Sam? At the unexpected thought, panic gripped him and all he knew was he needed to get free.  
  
Sam took a step back when he saw Dean's expression. Taking in the clenched jaw and bared teeth, he started to get second thoughts. "Dean . . . ," he started to say, but at that moment, Dean started thrashing around, obviously trying to break loose.  
  
Dean yanked and twisted his wrists against the cuffs, hoping the wooden slat of the headboard would snap. He gritted his teeth as the metal cut into his wrists, but instead of the wood breaking, the entire bed rocked and banged against the wall.  
  
Appalled at the sight of Dean willing to hurt himself to get loose, Sam moved up the side of the bed and gripped his forearms to stop him. "Dean!" said Sam, trying to penetrate Dean's obvious panic.  
  
The moment he felt callused hands clench tight around his arms, Dean swung his legs up and blindly wrapped them around his captor, scissor locking him between his thighs. Using what leverage he had, he braced himself with his hands on the headboard and forced his legs down.  
  
The breath was squeezed out of Sam as he was caught by surprise. He knew if Dean was able to cross his ankles, he'd be guaranteed a few cracked ribs. "Dean!" he forced out, barely above a whisper, using his arms to try and pry Dean's legs apart.  
  
It took a moment for Sam's voice to register, and when it did, Dean froze, his chest heaving with fear and exertion. "Sam?"  
  
"Yeah, it's me," gasped Sam, straining to free himself.  
  
"You sonuvabitch!" yelled Dean. He released him and tried to shove him off with his legs, but instead he found himself pinned beneath Sam.  
  
Sam scrambled to blanket Dean, bracing his arms and hands along his sides, holding him still. He could feel the tremors running through him and he tried to calm him by gently stroking his sides. "You keep struggling like this and one of us is really going to get hurt."  
  
"Oh, I'll hurt you, all right," growled Dean, his body still caught between blind panic and the unexpected shock of relief. He yanked against the cuffs again, cursing the wood for not cracking.  
  
"Stop it!" hissed Sam.  
  
"Get off of me, you freak," grunted Dean, bucking against him.  
  
"I don't think so," said Sam, "I've got you right where I want you."  
  
Dean went still. Despite the pain in his bruised wrists, he was extremely aware of Sam's hands lightly caressing the side of his ribs. Turning his head, he tried to shift the blind fold off his eyes so he could see Sam's face and get a handle on what was going on through his head. He shivered as warm breath tickled his cheek, and couldn't help himself from responding to Sam's solid weight pressing down on him.  
  
Shifting slightly to one side, Sam raised a hand and stopped Dean from trying to remove the bandana. As he moved, he could feel Dean getting hard against him. Grinning, he ran his hand down his neck, over his chest and stomach and wiggled his hand beneath the elastic waistband of Dean's boxers and encircled the hard column of flesh.  
  
Dean gasped and his hips twitched. He tried to bring his arms down, but the cuffs stopped him short.  
  
"You don't seem to be minding this too much," said Sam, his voice low and soft. He slid Dean's boxers off, then once again took Dean in hand. He twisted his wrist on the slide upward, running his thumb over the slit at the head of Dean's erection.  
  
Dean jerked, and a grunt of pleasure tearing from his throat.  
  
Sam set a steady rhythm, sliding his thumb every so often over the weeping slit. He ignored his own growing discomfort trapped in his jeans, concentrating on Dean's responses to his touch.  
  
Twisting and straining, Dean was on the edge and was about to come when Sam stopped suddenly. "No!" protested Dean.  
  
"Don't move," said Sam, rising from the bed.  
  
Dean strained against his bonds, his entire body crying out for release. It seemed an eternity before the bed dipped and then Sam was lowering himself on top of him. "You move, and I stop."  
  
"What?" mumbled Dean, not understanding. His entire attention was focused on the smoothness of Sam's skin against his own.  
  
"Don't move," repeated Sam, pressing his hips down and rubbing their matching hard ons together. He captured Dean's mouth, kissing him hard.  
  
Dean pushed upward, wanting to increase the pressure and speed.  
  
Sam lifted himself off and hovered just above Dean.  
  
"Sam!" yelled Dean, frustrated that Sam had stopped . . . again.  
  
"Don't move," repeated Sam, nudging Dean's legs apart and settling between them. He lowered his head and blazed a trail from Dean's mouth and down his neck to his chest. He nipped lightly at each of the small, twin peaks before moving down his sternum to his stomach.  
  
Dean clenched his hands into fists, struggling not to move. When his stomach muscles jumped, he was afraid that Sam would once again stop, but to his relief, and torture, Sam took his time teasing him.  
  
Sam sat back, between Dean's splayed legs, running one hand up and down the inside of his thigh.  
  
"Sam, please," said Dean, his voice cracking on the last word. He didn't know how long it had been that Sam had been idly trailing a hand without actually touching him, but it was a helluva lot longer than he thought was tolerable. He could feel Sam moving slightly, but couldn't figure out what he was doing.  
  
"Please, what?" asked Sam, his own sounding voice strained.  
  
"Don't leave me hanging here," begged Dean, his legs trembling from the effort as he tried not to move.  
  
"Give me a moment," said Sam, his voice catching oddly.  
  
Dean bucked upward when Sam's hand grazed his erection and he groaned as Sam once again moved.   
  
Edging back, Sam bent down, placing Dean's legs over his shoulders and taking him in his mouth. He rubbed his tongue along the underside of Dean's cock, then sucked hard as he slid his mouth back up, flicking the tiny slit with his tongue before sliding back down.  
  
Unable to stop himself, he arched into the wet heat. Almost crying out in relief that Sam hadn't pulled away.  
  
Sam continued to tease and work the hard flesh with his mouth, then suddenly stopped. He rose up to his knees, Dean's legs still over his shoulders. The result was lifting Dean's ass off the bed. "You know, I could fuck you right now and there's not a whole helluva lot you could do to stop me."  
  
Dean's entire body went rigid. He heard the unmistakable sound of a condom packet being torn open. "Sam. . . ."  
  
"You might want to think about that the next time you decide to start up the pranks again," continued Sam. He was glad Dean couldn't see how badly his hands were shaking as he removed the condom from it's packaging.  
  
Dean's mouth went dry, but a part of him twitched with a new level of excitement. Unexpectedly, Sam moved and he was once again flat on the bed. He didn't know what Sam was up to now. His brain short circuited as he felt Sam roll the cool condom down his length.  
  
Applying lube to his already slick fingers, he stroked Dean's sheathed cock. He hoped he had stretched himself enough to do this, then moved to straddle Dean. He steadied himself with one hand on Dean's chest and reached back to grip Dean's erection.  
  
Dean clenched his muscles, trying to stay still. When he felt the tip of his cock being pressed against tight slickness, he forgot how to breathe.  
  
Swallowing against a dry throat, Sam tried to will himself to relax. This was going to be a first for them both, and he certainly didn't want to screw it up.  
  
"Sam?" croaked Dean, his heart pounding in his chest.  
  
"Ssshhh." Sam hoped he had applied enough lubricant with his fingers to ease Dean's way.  
  
"Take off the blind fold," ordered Dean. He needed to see Sam, to see his face.  
  
Releasing his hold on Dean's cock, he leaned forward and tugged the bandana off. With heavy lidded eyes, he gazed down at his brother and then reached behind himself to once again align Dean so he could take him inside his body.  
  
"Do you know what you're doing?" asked Dean, eyes wide.  
  
"Hope so," answered Sam. He pushed back and down, biting his lip as Dean started to enter him. He paused to catch his breath, then forced himself downward, grimacing as sharp pain flared as Dean moved deeper inside. Taking it slow, he worked his way down the hard shaft.  
  
Tight softness enveloped him and Dean's toes curled as he forced himself to remain perfectly still. The last thing he wanted to do was to injure Sam in this unimaginable madness. A madness that was quickly consuming him body and soul. He clenched his teeth as inner muscles twitched and massaged him. "Not sure how long I can stay still," ground out Dean, beads of sweat forming on his upper lip.  
  
"Give me a moment," gasped Sam, finally sitting flush against Dean.  
  
Dean bent his legs, allowing Sam to lean back against his thighs. "You're nuts. You know that?"  
  
Sam merely smiled and leaned forward, placing his hands flat against Dean's chest and started to lift himself up then down.  
  
The sensation of sliding in such tight heat rolled in waves over Dean. His hips moved to push upward as Sam pushed down, then reversing.  
  
Gradually, the ache passed and Sam started to move faster. He fisted his recovering erection and dropped his head back, riding Dean harder and faster.  
  
Dean jerked his hips up, thrusting hard into Sam, before withdrawing to do it again. A low groan was the only warning he had as Sam came, coating his chest and stomach. The velvet glove gripping him spasmed and he erupted, his body arching until only his feet and shoulders were supporting Sam.  
  
Dropping forward, Sam buried his face into the crook of Dean's neck, panting as small after shocks rocked through him. After a time, he flinched as Dean slipped out of him.  
  
"Sam?" Dean wanted to make sure Sam was okay.  
  
"Huh?"   
  
"Want to undo the cuffs now?" asked Dean, overwhelmed with the need to hold Sam.  
  
Moving slowly, Sam got up and retrieved the key from the table.  
  
Dean noticed the careful movements as Sam walked and moved.  
  
Sam unlocked the cuffs and tossed them and the keys on the table, then eased back down on the bed. He curled on his side, wrapping himself against Dean.  
  
He was still awake as Sam fell asleep, replaying what had just happened. Leave it to Sam to bring a whole new level to their relationship in his own way.  
  
***  
  
Stashing their stuff in the trunk, Dean watched as Sam gingerly climbed into the passenger seat, knowing he was responsible.  
  
Dean slid behind the wheel and slipped on his sunglasses. He started the car, then carefully pulled the jacket of his sleeves down to hide the dark bruises left by the cuffs.  
  
Sam's brow furrowed at the sight, knowing he was the reason they were so bad.  
  
"Think I owe you one, Sam," grinned Dean, pushing in a cassette and pulled out of the parking lot.  
  
Sam's mouth fell open and he stared at Dean as they hit the road.


End file.
